


Live Wire

by Kabella



Series: First Days [7]
Category: Mötley Crüe, The Dirt (2019)
Genre: Bikinis, Fluff, M/M, Mick is always on time, Oversleeping, Teasy tommy, Teenagers, Umlauts, everything all wrapped up in a pretty little bow, lite smut, schapps, vince is pissy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:21:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25539451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kabella/pseuds/Kabella
Summary: So, the four mismatched individuals are now together in the same room. Is it gonna work out? Tommy is the upbeat one, Nikki is the serious one, Vince is the pissy one, and Mick is just biting his tongue, waiting for his moment to unleash.
Relationships: Tommy Lee/Nikki Sixx
Series: First Days [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1819792
Comments: 5
Kudos: 18





	Live Wire

**Author's Note:**

> So, here it is, finally. The final chapter to this little mini-series. 
> 
> I like certain things in this chapter, but other things feel a little contrived to me. It's just that I wanted to include certain points in my wrap-up that I perhaps would have drawn out a little bit more if this were to be a longer story or book. For instance, Nikki is generally cautious and guarded, but I didnt have time to bring those traits into the story. No one probably cares, except me. I just have a hard time deviating from certain things sometimes, like traits and timelines. Timeline is little off here too. 
> 
> There a few nods to the book/movie, but in my own words.
> 
> Enjoy

Nikki feels sunlight hitting his face. It’s nice and warm, and he immediately remembers that Tommy is in his bed with him. He smiles, wraps his arm around the drummer, and nestles his head into Tommy’s, closing his eyes again. Ahhh…. This feel good.

FUCK! Nikki’s eyes jolt open. The sun doesn’t typically hit his bedroom window until around noon. He whips himself around to look at the clock. Shit, it’s quarter after 12.

“Tommy! Wake up. We overslept. Fuck,” Nikki says, bounding out of bed.

Tommy picks his head up. “Wha?” the sleepy head says.

“Get the fuck up! It’s after 12. Mick and that singer are going to be here before we know it.”

Tommy stretches lazily. “We got time, man.”

“No we don’t. I gotta get cleaned up, and get songs ready for that guy.”

“His name is Vince,” Tommy says, still not moving. “I was kinda hoping for--”

Nikki interrupts, “Oh my god, Tom. There’s no time. Later! Get up!”

“There’s time.”

“Not if they come early. I gotta get the lyrics ready,” Nikki says, heading off towards the bathroom, jumping up and down on the move to fit his pants on. Nikki pops his head back in for a moment. “Get the fuck up, and take one of my t-shirts if you need.”

Nikki takes care of business in the bathroom. As he’s jetting into the livingroom, he yells again for Tommy to get up.

“I am!” the drummer calls out.

Nikki sits down, glossing over his lyric sheets with a pencil in hand.

About 5 minutes later, Tommy comes strolling into the living room in one of Nikki’s sleeveless shirts and his bikini briefs. “Want coffee?”

“Sure. Thanks,” Nikki says, not looking up. “It’s in the cupboard,” Nikki points towards, finally glancing up. He does a double take. “Hey, whoa. Did you forget something?”

“This is my preferred drumming attire. I get sweaty. Actually, I really prefer to be shirtless too, but I couldn’t resist putting on one of your shirts.”

“Oh my god! Put your fucking pants on!”

Tommy strikes a pose, hand on hip, “I thought you might like this,” presenting himself in grand fashion.

“It’s not about what I like. It’s about Mick and Victor thinking you got a screw loose.”

“It’s Vince, and this me. I feel rather carefree like this.”

“OK, then I’m going to lay out a couple fucking lines for myself on the table. That’s me, and makes me feel carefree.”

“Fine. I’ll put the fucking pants on,” Tommy pouts. “Just lay off that shit while Vince is here. And lemme enjoy an extra minute of freedom by putting the coffee on first. And I’m telling you…. One day, this is all I’m going to be wearing on stage.”

“Ha,” Nikki smirks.

Tommy gets the coffee perking. And walks veeeerrrry slowly past Nikki towards the bedroom.

“Fucking asshole,” Nikki mumbles under is breath, as he gets up, and rushes towards Tommy, pinning him to the wall. He attacks Tommy’s lips, mouth, and neck, while palming his package.

“That’s what I’m talking about, Sixx.”

Nikki cranes his neck to look at the time. It’s 20 of. He takes a deep breath and gets down on his knees.

Tommy throws his head against the wall in disbelief, “No fucking way!”

“Fucking make yourself cum quick. This will probably be the only time I ask you to be fast.”

Nikki takes the drummer’s cock in his mouth and starts a half-ass attempt at a blow job.

Tommy can’t believe this is happening. Oh my god, another thrill to the core.

About 5 minutes go by, and Tommy hears a car door slam out front. He stimulates his balls while Nikki is busy pumping and sucking, and manages to cum about 10 seconds later. 

Nikki has a mouth full of unexpected jizz, since Tommy had no time to warn him. The doorknob is twisting. Tommy jets off to the bedroom, and Nikki feels that he has no choice but to swallow as he gets up off his knees.

Nikki is sweating profusely and isn’t quite sure how he feels about what he just ingested, but there’s no time for a full introspective evaluation. Mick is standing in the doorway.

Nikki shakes his head clear, and forces a smile. “Hey Mick! Want some coffee?”

“Fuck that shit,” Mick says, waving his bottle of Schnapps around. “Tommy’s here already? I saw his van out there.”

“Um, actually he crashed here last night,” Nikki says, his heart still pounding, as he walks into the kitchen for his coffee; cradling his head in his arms on the counter for a quick minute to regain his composure.

“Better make sure that his parents didn’t call the police for a missing child,” Mick snickers.

“He’s 18 now.”

“Ooh,” Mick says, motioning with jazz hands.

Tommy comes moseying into the living room, gazing at a magazine, nonchalant as can be. Pants are on.

“Oh hey, Mick. Didn’t hear you come in. I was washing up. Just finished making breakfast for Nikki.”

Nikki rears his head up, and gives Tommy a hard stare.

“Got some domestic skills there, kid?”

“Yeah. Special recipe I’ve been cooking up since I was about 12,” Tommy says, starting to crack, trying to stifle his laugh.

Nikki is freaking out. “Mick!” he calls out, to divert his attention. “Um, I got the lyrics out for that singer.”

“Well, I should hope so,” Mick replies. “Think the prick will show?”

“It’s Vince, and I think he’ll be here. Remember, no assholery from you today,” Tommy reminds Mick.

“Yeah, yeah.”

\------------------------

It’s 10 after 1.

“Where is this cocksucker?” Mick barks.

“Heh, heh….cocksucker,” Tommy says, stifling laughter.

“Nikki, I swear this moron is lying to you about his age. Can’t be more than 15 years old,” Micks snaps.

Nikki just sits there bouncing his knee and gnawing on his thumbnail, while shooting a harsh look at Tommy.

“Are you sure he was coming today?” Nikki asks.

“Relax. This is the way he makes his entrance,” Tommy replies.

“Well, it’s pissing me off!” Nikki shrieks.

“Testy, aren’t you? Hee hee, testes,” Tommy giggles.

Mick picks up a drumstick and chucks it at Tommy’s head. “Knock it off already!”

“Damn, you two must have woken up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” Tommy grins, “Nikki, what side--”

Nikki gets up from his chair abruptly and grabs Tommy by the wrist to haul him off before he has a chance to say anything further.

“Be right back, Mick,” Nikki snaps, charging towards his bedroom, Tommy in tow.

Nikki slams the door shut.

“Enough already!”

“Aw, come on. I’m just having fun.”

“Well, stop. I don’t want Mick to suspect anything.”

“Why would he?”

“Gee, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re acting like a dumbass.”

Tommy’s smile fades into a legitimate pout.

Nikki sighs. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just on edge about whether this singer is going to show up.”

“I didn’t mean it,” Tommy says, still frowning.

“Come here,” Nikki says holding his arms out. 

Tommy accepts the embrace. “Just can’t stop thinking about what you did is all. I’m like all wound up from it.”

“I know. I….,” Nikki starts smiling. “I couldn’t help it. You sauntering around in your bikinis just got to me.”

“Well, that was the intention. I’ve been horny since last night. I wanted more, but you were asleep already when I got back to the room. And god… you took my fucking breath away before. That was so damn hot.”

“OK, more later. Just tone it down, please. Alright? Let’s get back out there. I don’t want Mick to think anything. And maybe you should call home since we got up so late.”

“Alright, I’ll behave, and yeah… I should probably call.”

“Come on,” Nikki says, opening the door.

“Hold on,” Tommy says, putting his hand on it to keep it from opening. “First, this….” Tommy places a deep kiss on Nikki’s lips. “Second, did you swallow?”

“I didn’t have a fucking choice in the matter. Mick was standing there, and I had to say something.”

“Fucking hot,” Tommy says, with a sly grin.

They go back out to the living room, and Tommy makes a beeline for the phone.”

“Sorry, Mick. Just laying down the law with him,” Nikki says, nodding his head.

“Fine. Teenage fool.”

Tommy hangs the phone up a minute later. “All good.”

“It’s not all good. Where’s that bleached bimbo?” Mick blares.

“Giving a test run on your inventory of insults for him?” Nikki asks.

“Yep. How’d that one sound, grease monkey?”

“Alright, so I didn’t shower today. They’re overrated anyway.”

Mick blows on his fingernails, and polishes them on his shirt, with a smirk on his face.

Tommy’s been staring out the window since getting off the phone. “Shit! I think he might be here! See! Told you, dummies…. Yup, it’s him. Everyone on their best behavior,” Tommy says with a thumbs up.

“Fuck off, stick boy,” Mick sneers, as Nikki roars out a loud belch.

“Perfect guys,” Tommy says, gesturing ‘OK’ with his fingers, nodding his head.

Tommy bounds to the door and opens it. “Hey Vince, up here!”

“Shitty neighborhood,” Vince says, as he makes it way up the steps.

Tommy shrugs, as he extends his hand to pull Vince in for a hug. “Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life,” Tommy says, grinning.

“Putting the cart before the horse, man,” Vince says with a sour look on his face, eyeballing Tommy’s dark locks in the daytime light. “Not dying my fucking hair. That’s one thing that’s certain.”

“We don’t want you to. Come in.”

“Hey,” Nikki says, extending his hand to shake. I’m Nikki.”

“I know who you are. I’m Vince.”

“That’s Mick over there,” Nikki says motioning with his hand.

Mick has a zillion and one insults that seem appropriate to throw out right now, as he stares at this sun-bleached pissy ass bastard, but he refrains. At least for now, kinda… “You’re late.”

“Fuck you. Lucky I’m showing up to this shitty audition. Only doing it for Tommy,” Vince snaps back.

Mick bites his tongue. “Come on, drummer, you gotta let me just--”

“No!” Tommy says firmly, waving Mick off.

Nikki waves them both off before they start tearing at each other. “Glad you could make it, Vince. Uh, so we’re looking to do something that’s new in the realm of bands on the Strip. Kick ass music with a show that puts all of the rest to shame. I’m tired of settling. We all are. There’s no fucking action out there anymore, and everyone is just so fucking content to sit and wait for someone to notice them to land a deal. I guarantee, we’re going to be noticed right out of the gate.”

“What kind of music?”

“Originals for one. I’ve written a bunch. Just within a few days, we brought a few of them to life. Um, heavy on guitar riffs. Kind of a hybrid of rock, glam metal, punk, and pop.”

“Pop?”

“I want them to have hooks that people remember and melodies that people can sing along too. Punk is a lot of yelling. Metal, a lot chanting. They have their following. But I just don’t want one following. I want them all.”

“OK. What do you got?”

“Guys. Let’s do  _ Toast of the Town _ ,” Nikki suggests. “Here, take these lyrics, and follow along. I’m going to sing them, but only so you see how the lyrics fit in. I’m a shit singer. This song has a strong pop vibe.”

“OK, man.”

The guys run through the song, Nikki choking the lyrics out; not so well.

“Wanna give it a try?” Nikki asks.

“You’re going to kill it, Vin,” Tommy says.

Vince just gives him a look. “Let’s go.”

They play through the first verse and chorus with Vince’s vocals.

“Nikki, I think we need to tune down to better suit this voice,” Mick suggests.

“Agree. Um, hey man, that wasn’t bad. We just gotta get in sync with each other. What are your thoughts?” Nikki asks.

Vince shrugs.

Nikki purses his lips. “Kindly let me know if we’re wasting your time.”

“Not a waste of time. I’m just trying to process things,” Vince says, stroking his chin. “You know, I feel like I got a good thing going already. On the other hand, I know Tommy was right when we talked last night about the future of a cover band singer. Don’t mind my fucking pissy facial expressions; I’m just thinking. Let’s try again.”

Nikki just smiles. “Just checking, dude. Ready, Mick?”

“Yeah.”

The second try is better. They go again, re-tuning each time. 

“Let’s try  _ Stick To Your Guns. _ ” Nikki says.

They run through that song. It’s all OK. Everything is OK. Vince has potential, but there’s still a disconnect somewhere.

“Hey guys, let’s take a break. I have a hunch with that song  _ Live Wire _ that we just started working. Mick, let’s finish that one, and change some things up….. Uh, why don’t you two old buddies catch up or something. Have a beer,” Nikki says.

Tommy goes to the fridge and takes two out, tossing one to Vince, who’s also underage at 19 years old. No one around here seems to give a shit about those minor annoyances.

Vince is feeling a little out of place here, maybe out of his element. But there’s something keeping him here. He can find it in himself to walk away. Is it that Nikki Sixx is a sweet talker or maybe a shady salesman? Vince doesn’t know, but there’s just something innate telling him to stay, something other than a bit of an allegiance to Tommy.

Tommy motions for Vince to come join him on the stoop, while Nikki and Mick work. “What’s your opinion so far?” Tommy asks.

“I don’t know, T-Bone. Like, the songs have potential. I don’t hate them, but uh…. I’m not sure, man. Like I wanna keep trying I guess. I’ll either fit in or I won’t.”

“Ha, T-Bone. No one’s called me that, at least since I dropped out of school,” Tommy muses. “Anyway, I think we can make this work with the 4 of us. I mean me, Nikki, and Mick haven’t even been together a week yet, but it already feels like we’re meant to be together in this.”

“What with that little incubus?” Vince says, smirking.

“Eh. He’s cranky, but he’s a fucking genius. You know, he’s the one that wanted you here. I mean, not that Nikki and I don’t, but he’s the one who saw you and said that we needed to get you. We actually came down to check out your rhythm guitarist.

“Really? Fuck him. That guy is looking to get into synthesizers and such, and moving away from 70s rock covers.”

“See man, it’s just another sign. I think that you’re meant to be here,” Tommy says, lighting up.

“Weren’t you in another band recently?”

“Yeah, until I met Nikki. My band and I were starting to grow apart anyway. I actually have 2 more shows with them. Tomorrow night, and another one 2 days later. Then we’re disbanding.”

Vince nods, chugging back a few huge gulps of beer. “How about Nikki. He’s got a reputation for being a brat and a druggie.”

“He’ll be cool with you. If he acts like a brat to anyone else, it’s only because he doesn’t like all this boring bullshit on the strip, and he’s got ideas. And drugs? I don’t know. He’s not out of control with them. I mean look, he’s writing fucking songs and putting this together. He’s got a sound mind if you ask me.”

“Hmm. I guess I’ll see. And to be honest, I use drugs too. Just don’t wanna hide that from you guys. Maybe I’m coming down on Nikki because he’s got a reputation already,” Vince reveals.

“Fuck, we all do. The only reason Nikki’s reputation stands out is because he makes himself known, and that’s exactly what we need to be successful. Gotta stand out above the rest.”

“Tommy Bass is making some sense here; putting things into perspective,” Vince laughs.”

“What else are you up to? Living at home still?” Tommy asks.

“Yeah, but my parents are cool. I don’t know. Been thinking of moving out soon. I’m an apprentice for an electrician on the side. Light construction too, so I can probably swing rent somewhere. But, I like spending my money on other stuff, right now.”

“Another sign of things to come, Vinnie. Nikki and Mick are working on a song called Live Wire.”

“Why the hell is that a sign?”

“Electrician. Live Wire. Duh,” Tommy snickers.

“Stupid jokes are still your thing I guess. Anyway, it’s cool to reconnect,” Vince says, grabbing the rest of Tommy’s beer, since he slowed down on it due to his smoke.

Tommy shoves him, and they laugh, as Vince launches his crumbled first can of beer off the landing.

\-------------------------------

About 20 minutes go by, Nikki leans his head out the doorway.

“Almost ready to go again. Was wondering though, Vince, would you mind going down to the corner liquor store and grabbing another 6 pack,” Nikki asks, waving a $5 bill in one hand, holding a beer in his other.

“Uh, would love to, but I can’t.”

Nikki sports a confused look, thinking that Vince is just being a jerk.

“Hey, chief… we went to high school together. What’s that tell you?” Tommy snickers.

Nikki smirks, an enlightened look on his face, “Oh shit. Two of youz underaged. Um, OK. Let’s run through this shit, and then I’ll go when we’re finished. Give us 2 minutes, then come back in.”

Nikki comes back in. “Give me a swig of that shit,” Nikki says, pointing to Mick’s bottle of Schnapps.

“Get your own,” Mick says, tilting the bottle back.

“I would, but I’m writing music right now, and…..  **AND,** I know that you’ll be so delighted to hear this….. We got ourselves another teenager out there,” Nikki says, grinning.

“Just fuck my life right now,” Mick says, shaking his head, eyeballing what’s left of his bottle.

“He was your pick man. Give me the fucking bottle.”

Mick relents and hands it over, “Fucking band of immature imbeciles is what this is going to be.”

“Hey! He’s not in yet, and youth sells. Think your decrepit mug is gonna sell our brand?” Nikki jokes, handing the bottle back, after slinging some down.

“Maybe not, you ain’t got shit without me, and your ass knows it. Name a better guitarist for this type of music?”

“Come on Mick. I can shout out a bunch of names.”

“Go ahead. Shout ‘em out. Who’s gonna play this shit and get this sound for your songs? Page? Richards? Perry? Great guitarists. Not the right sound.”

“Was thinking more along the lines of that dude from Rockandi,” Nikki laughs.

“That’s what I thought. Strap your fucking bass on, and let’s get on with this shit.”

\------------------------

Tommy and Vince come back in. Tommy gets behind his kit, and he, Nikki, and Mick run through the newly processed version of Live Wire; Nikki singing to spot the lyrics for Vince.

“Sounds bad ass, guys,” Tommy says, after they finished.

“Wanna give it a try?” Nikki asks Vince.

“Let’s go.

They run through the first verse, and Mick stops.

“Nope. Tune down,” Mick says.

“I think faster too,” Tommy adds in.

‘Probably right,” Mick agrees.

The band makes adjustments, and they give it another try. This time Vince’s vocals match the tone. They’re jamming and rocking it.

Nikki stops it after the second chorus. He turns around to face the wall.

“Someone wrong, bass player?” Micks asks. “I thought that sounded spot on.”

Tommy can see that Nikki is holding his hand over his eyes. Is he crying?

Nikki wipes his hand down his face, and turns back around, sporting evidence of a tear track down his face. “This is it. This is our 4. We’re about to begin a crazy journey to the top,” Nikki chokes out, another tear escaping; not even asking Vince if he wants in. He just knows.

Everybody is silent for a few moments; Vince kicking the toe of his boot into the carpet, Mick drumming his fingers on his guitar, Tommy dropping a stick on the floor. He picks it up then shouts out, “Vinnie, you in?!” pointing his stick at him.

“Hell yeah. I’m in,” he smiles.

Mick even has a smile on his face.

“Oh my god. This is the beginning of something magical,” Nikki grins. “We’re going to the fucking top….. WE’RE GOING TO THE FUCKING TOP!!!!”

\-------------------------

The band ran through the song a few times, top to end. It was clean, and sounded hella good. Not good, dynamite and hard-hitting.

Nikki eventually ran down to the liquor store. A 12 pack, a bottle of Schnapps and a bottle of whiskey. It’s a celebration. He’s splurging tonight; using rent money.

They’re all back at the apartment discussing band ideas.

“Guys, I got so much shit running through my head right now. Our songs are going to kick ass and hold their own, but we’re also going to put on a show like no one else on the Strip has. Risers, lights, make-up, flashy clothes, flames, blood, other fucking props, whatever you can think of.”

“Blood?” Tommy asks.

“Fake,” Nikki says, rolling his eyes, “Unless you’d like to sacrifice some of your own?”

“Oh, OK,” Tommy nods.

“I’ll volunteer to make the first cut on his throat,” Mick says.

Tommy throws a drumstick at him.

“Come on, guys. You know I was thinking. Blackie Lawless used to like himself on fire. I want to do that, but on a grander scale. I was thinking about this last night.,” Nikki says.

“Yeah because he nearly lit his dick on fire last night,” Tommy laughs.

“I really don’t even want to know,” Mick says, shaking his head.

“It’s not what it sounds like. I dropped a lit match on my groin accidentally. It flared up for a second when it hit me, then burned out just as fast. I was scared shitless for a hot second, thinking I was going to become a eunuch, but my leather pants protected me. I just need leather and quick burning alcohol gel, and I can do this.”

“But Blackie has done shit like that before. What’s new about us doing it?” Vince asks.

“Don’t say us. Keep the fucking flame away from me,” Mick blares.

“Because we’re going to do it bigger and better, and it’s not just that. It’s that with a bunch of other stuff. It’s a whole show along with our fucking songs.”

“Ladies and gentleman, I’d like to introduce you to……. I don’t know…. Side Show Freaks on Fire!”

“Very funny. Mick. By the way, Vince, you better double down for Mick’s array of insults and backhanded compliments. Now that you’re in, you’re no longer immune,” Nikki warns.

“Thank god. So I can finally let this kid know that he’s a fucking bleached, snot-faced moron,” Mick says, with a smirk.

Tommy can’t help but to start laughing.

“Quiet over there, you stilted circus clown,” Mick continues.

“So what are you? Demon Spawn who’s been roaming the earth for the past 500 years surviving on the blood of cockroaches? Looks about right to me,” Vince says, deadpan.

Tommy is dying.

“Fuck you all!” Mick screeches. “Seriously, we don’t have a fucking band name! Tarts on Coke? Slophouse Pigs? Teenage Dingbats? How about Broke Ass Dicks?”

“Stellar recommendations, Hobgoblin. Can we fucking focus for a damn minute, please,” Nikki snaps.

Vince snickers.

“Motley Crew!” Mick shouts out.

“What?” Tommy says.

“Motley Fucking Crew. That’s what we are. A teenage meat beater, a wayward beach comber, a whiskey guzzling porcupine, and a fine and talented axeman,” Mick touts.

“Wrong. It’s ADD Personified, Class A Brat, Count Dickula, and Sexy Motherfucking Frontman.

“Wrong again. More like a tanned teenybopper fucker, a reclusive hermit, an AARP groupie, and the best damn skin beater ever,” Tommy says with confidence. “By the way, what does motley mean?”

“It means stay the fuck in school!” Mick snaps.

“Tom, it means mismatched and varied,” Nikki smiles. “We’re a bunch of fucking misfits. All different, but the same goal. It’s perfect. Let’s fuck up the spelling, since we’re all fucked up anyway. Good?”

Everyone nods or gives a thumbs up.

“Hands in, bastards. Motley Crew is about to wake up the devil himself.”

\-------------------

The newly formed band spent another few hours together bonding, discussing plans and music, deciding on a spelling for the band name, and drinking… a lot. 

Finally around 7pm, Vince and Mick leave. They’re going to practice tomorrow until Tommy has to pack up his drums for his next show. 

Tommy is lying on the couch, nearly upside-down. “Umlaut…..umlaut…. Um….laut...Um--"

“Tom, stop,” Nikki says, knocking Tommy’s leg, which is hanging off the couch.

“What?” the drummer says, picking his head up.

“Are you OK?” Nikki asks.

“Hell yeah… why?”

“No reason. Just think you’re about Sixx sheets to the wind.”

“Huh?”

Nikki sighs. “The saying is actually 3 sheets to the wind, and it means drunk-ass.”

“Oh,” Tommy snickers. “I’m being fucking schooled today, aren’t I?”

“On what?”

“Things I don’t know. Stupid, gay sayings for drunkeness, and two new words… motley and umlaut. That’s fun to say. Umlaut.”

“OK, man,” Nikki laughs. “Just cool it though.”

“See, and my dad says that this is mindless drivel. I am learning shit,” Tommy reasons. “Fuck man. My dad… dude, I should probably get home. It’s been like 24 hours.”

“Not like this, Tom. You’re not going anywhere.”

“I know. Fuck. I guess I should call. I’ll wait til later to go home, or maybe tomorrow morning. Wasn’t gonna go anywhere right now anyway. Need more with you first. Been aching all day for you.”

“Same. Sure you can handle it?”

“I don’t need to be sober for this,” Tommy says, getting himself upright.

“Just don’t vomit on me.”

“I won’t. Lemme call home.”

Tommy stumbles to the phone. Nikki listens to the one sided conversation.

“Hi mom.”

….

“I know. Sorry.”

….

“Good news and bad news. Um, the good news is that my new band is officially formed now, and we even have a name. Motley Crue. Spelled with umlauts.”

…..

“Umlauts, mom. German things that… like dots. I don’t really know what they do. They’re just cool as fuck.”

…...

“Sorry.”

\----

“Oh, and the bad news is that I’m drunk, and I can’t drive home for awhile.”

….

“OK….. OK, I will. See you in the morning. Um, I’ll have other things to share.”

\----

“K. Love you too.”

Tommy hangs up, turns around and smiles. “All good! Spending the night again!”

“Your mom seemed pretty cool about things,” Nikki says.

“Yeah, it’s just that they’re used to my behavior. They stopped fighting me about a lot of things, like the drinking, as long as I’m in a safe place. And they won’t buy the shit, but they don’t question how I get it,” the drummer says, trying to stay standing.

Tommy is leaning across the counter, holding his face up; sloshed.

“Man, you looked fucked. Told you not to get into that fruity shit that Mick drinks. Goes down too easily.”

“I’m just fruity for you, man” Tommy slurs.

Nikki walks over to Tommy, and wraps his arms around him, trying to walk him back to the couch. “Here’s my idea, Tommy. How about we clean up in the shower--”

“Lube won’t work well there.”

“Let me finish…. I want to try again what I did earlier. That was too rushed,” Nikki says, standing in front of the couch, sliding his hands down Tommy’s sides.

“Oh my god. Really?” Tommy says, perking up immediately. “I didn’t think you enjoyed that much. I fucking did, but wasn’t sure you did.”

“I wanted more. The timing just wasn’t good.”

“Mick is always so damn prompt, isn’t he?”

“Better than late. Vince better not always be on beach time.”

Tommy sits back on the couch, and pulls on Nikki’s wrist to sit with him. “Hey… do we tell them? I mean, like I’m still…” Tommy sighs. “I would like to have a status of what we are. Like bandmates, roommates, friends, friends who fuck, best friends, twin friends,…. boyfriends,” Tommy says, mentioning the last one quietly with his head down.

“How about all of the above,” Nikki smiles.

“You mean, like the last one too?”

“Why not? I know we’re going to eventually be.”

“Really? Like what about the clubs and the girls. I mean we were fucking ‘em hot, just days ago. Like, I just want to make sure that you--”

“Listen Tom. I don’t exactly know what I am. I mean as far as gay, bi, or straight, curious, crazy, or whatever. Maybe it will become clear someday. I just know that I want you. I’ve never had feelings like this before. It’s all kind of new, but I don’t want it to stop. I don’t want to lose any momentum of what you and I can do together. And I don’t think that it would be smart to tell the other two. At least not right now.”

“I guess I agree about Mick and Vince. And I think that I can pretty much say the same about everything you said, except, I know that I’m not just straight. I think that I’ve known that for longer than I can admit even to myself.”

“I’m probably not either. It’s just that there’s so much going on in my head lately between leaving London, starting Motley Crue, and meeting you, that I haven’t had much time to reflect on things. I think that I need to put a straight jacket on my thoughts. I’m a friggin’ mental case, but in some ways, I always have been. I live life fast.”

“Then we can be mental together. Everyone thinks I’m a bit psycho; mainly because I can’t be still, so it makes me seem crazy….. But, what are you going to do if the fans start hitting on you?”

“Tommy, I don’t know. I’ll probably look forward to getting home with you. But how about this, my twin friend…” Nikki arches an eyebrow and sports an evil smirk. “We only come as a pair? If we go with a girl, we do it together? It will be our signature style. And we can always stop if we decide we just want each other.”

“Now that’s hot. I’ll fucking agree to that. Just hope the girls agree.”

“Their fucking loss if they don’t,” Nikki shrugs.

“Excellent point,” Tommy says, leaning back down on the couch.

“Come on… before you pass out here,” Nikki says, trying to manhandle Tommy. “Also, I thought that after the shower we can go back to my bedroom, soaking wet and I’ll fuck you again, since you liked that so much. Whatever position you want.”

“Is it still my birthday?” Tommy grins, perking up once again.

“Pretend everyday is your birthday, Tommy Lee.”

“You know… that’s another thing, Nikki. Vince called me by my old nickname today, T-Bone. I thought about using that name because I think it suits me. It’s been a good nickname. But, the truth is, I like Tommy. I am Tommy. I like when you call me Tommy Lee, so that’s what I’m going to use.”

Nikki smiles. Really? Isn’t that what your parents say when they get angry?”

“No, one, they rarely use my middle name. And two, if they did, it would be Thomas Lee. You know, for the full effect. Only you call me Tommy Lee.”

“Well, I love it, and I guess I won’t be the only one calling you that for long.”

“Your right. So, I want to hear you yelling it out exclusively for the rest of the night before word gets out about it.”

“As you wish,” Nikki says, leading Tommy to the bathroom.

“Can I use an umlaut over the O?”

“No! For the band name only.”

“You suck,” Tommy pouts.

“Exactly, Tommy Lee,” Nikki says, as he unfastens Tommy’s pants.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm going to finish off the Too Fast For Love song titles with one shots. I think I got 4 left.
> 
> Working on On With The Show. This one is going to be challenging with the idea I have.
> 
> I also have Public Enemy #1, Stick To Your Guns, and Merry-Go-Round. I have no ideas for these 3 yet. If you have a prompt that relates to one of those songs that you'd like to see me tackle, lemme know. Something will eventually come to me.
> 
> After that, I REALLY need to get back to finishing my Wattpad choose- adventure book. Readers have been asking. So, I won't be posting here quite as often. I might slip in some occasional stories here or there. And I'll be checking daily for updates of stories from other TL/N6 writers.


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